


To Lose A Week (And Gain A Lifetime)

by Bam4Me



Series: Unexpected Consequences [1]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: 16 yo Bail, 16 yo Obi-Wan, Alternate Universe, Attachment, Gen, Head Injury, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, Like the ho he is, M/M, Memory Loss, Padawan Obi-Wan, Purring Jedi, Qui-Gon encouraging Obi-Wan to form attachments, Sleeping Together, This sounds like angst it's not its pretty fluffy, Young Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 10:33:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15970541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bam4Me/pseuds/Bam4Me
Summary: The mission that brought Obi-Wan Kenobi and Bail Organa together for the first time, even if one of them doesn't remember a damn thing.





	To Lose A Week (And Gain A Lifetime)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so some things: anything you see that doesn't fit in with canon; I don't care. Lol this fic was supposed to have smut in it you guys missed out lol that'll have to happen next in the series lolllll
> 
> padawansuggest.tumblr.com

Obi-Wan doesn’t actually remember his first meeting with Bail Organa. That’s not to say he doesn’t remember how it happened, it’s to say, he wasn’t conscious enough to remember the events as it happened.

 

According to Qui-Gon, and the reports he’d filed with the council, there had been a kidnapping.

 

Specifically, Prince Bail Organa, and Senator Prestor Organa, had been kidnapped from the senate in the afternoon on a bright, artificially sunny day on Coruscant, and Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had been sent out to find and get them back. They had to fight the kidnappers, yada yada yada, and Obi-Wan came back to the ship with a concussion that wiped about seven days of memory, that Obi-Wan still hadn’t recovered years later.

 

Bail, on the other hand, had a broken leg.

 

Qui-Gon winced at the two teenagers in the cramped bunk room on the ship. Thankfully, since they were on a rescue mission, the temple had given them a ship with actual space in it, and they didn’t have to share a tiny little bunk, because the two of them weren’t going to be getting up much for the whole ride back to Coruscant. Which would take almost a week.

 

He’d just finished setting Bail’s leg, and the sixteen year old was looking flushed and a little green around the edges. Qui-Gon pulled back and prepared a second syringe from the medikit. He’d dulled the pain as well as he could before setting it, but Bail needed some sleep now. Bail stopped him before he could inject him. 

 

“Is Padawan Kenobi okay? He looked really sick.”

 

Qui-Gon ran a soothing hand up the teen’s arm, leaning up to check on Obi-Wan passed out in the second higher bunk, frowning. “Well, he’ll be fine… but he probably shouldn’t be sleeping that high. Even when he wakes up later he’s going to be dizzy and sick. I don’t like the idea of him falling off the bed because he couldn’t keep his balance.”

 

Bail nodded, looking like he appreciated the honesty. “He… he got pretty banged up, didn’t he? I don’t think he knew where he was when he was awake. Are you sure it’s safe to have him sleep at all? Isn’t that dangerous with concussions?”

 

Qui-Gon smiled at the concern for his padawan. “I’ve placed him in a healing trance. He might wake up a few times, but with the sedatives, he shouldn’t have trouble slipping back in when he needs it. He’ll need time to heal.”

 

Bail nodded, looking at the syringe in the master’s hand again, before sighing and holding out his arm. “Okay, just make sure he doesn’t fall out and die.”

 

Master Qui-Gon gave him a smile so soft that Bail actually smiled back before he injected him. Everything was dark after that.

 

***

 

Obi-Wan didn’t remember getting out of bed. Not doing it, not  _ why _ he would do it, not  _ how _ he did it either, because it was really high up, and he was sort of swaying in place as he slowly walked back to the room he’d woken up in. He thinks he got up to pee, but he doesn’t remember?

 

Everything was swimming in his vision. He vaguely registered a dull throb in the back of his skull, but he was too exhausted to really reach up to feel for himself. He didn’t know how he got off the bunk, much less how he got to the fresher and back, but when he did, he didn’t know what to do next.

 

He couldn’t climb that high, he was  _ lucky _ he was still standing right now. The bottom bunk already had someone on it. This must be that Bail kid that they were sent to rescue. Thank kark, because he wouldn’t make it through a mission feeling like this.

 

He vaguely gave thought to sitting down on the floor to die, but his body -the Betrayer™- was already climbing into the bottom bunk with the other teenager and curling up at his side, using his stomach as a pillow because he had no self control right now. He closed his eyes again and was asleep in seconds.

 

***

 

Bail wasn’t alone in the bunk the next time that Qui-Gon came to check on them a few hours later, and he paused in the doorway with a little, “huh.”

 

His padawan was clutching Bail’s unbroken leg like a teddy bear, face nuzzled into the teenager’s stomach like it was the best pillow.

 

He had  _ no _ idea how Obi-Wan had broken out of his healing trance, much less made it to the floor without killing himself.

 

He sighed, coming into the room to kneel next to the bed. He put a hand on Obi-Wan’s forehead first, gentling him back down into the healing trance, with more barriers in place not to let him slip out this time, before putting a hand on Bail’s forehead next, so he could understand if the prince was uncomfortable or not.

 

Bail seemed just as content as Obi-Wan was.

 

As much as Qui-Gon knew he shouldn’t leave them in the same cramped little bed, he couldn’t bring himself to move either of them. The more comfortable his padawan was, the less likely he was to fight the healing trance, and the more safe Bail felt, the less stress the journey home would cause him.

 

He pulled the blanket off the top bunk, tucking the thermal fleece around his padawan, before getting a bigger blanket from the room’s closet to tuck around both of them. The last thing they needed was for either of them to catch a chill.

 

Well, body heat would help ward off any cold that might come up.

 

He was in the cockpit two hours later, when Senator Organa came in and sat next to him in the copilot’s seat. The senator was quiet for a long minute, clearly thinking his words over. “...do all padawans sleep with others like that?”

 

Qui-Gon shrugged. “Depends on the padawan, to be honest. Initiates aren’t  _ required _ to sleep in their own beds, just encouraged, I know I used to pile up with a few friends of mine as a kid. Obi-Wan was a bit more open with that than I tended to be, I don’t think he often slept alone in the crèche.”

 

The senator gave him a slow nod, looking thoughtful. “Okay. So, that’s normal?”

 

Qui-Gon made a so-so gesture. “Well, when he’s sick he ends up in my bed, same as any kid with their guardian, but I think it’s more to do with the fact that he likely couldn’t climb back up to the top bunk with his head like that.”

 

Prestor shook his head, looking sad. “I truly am sorry he got hurt like that. Do you think it’ll do permanent damage? He couldn’t even remember where he was after it happened.”

 

“I don’t think the hit did any damage, but he’ll likely forget quite a bit.” Qui-Gon understood the sorrow in the senator’s eyes. Bail and Obi-Wan were only kids, just sixteen. Both of them not even old enough to field missions on their own away from their guardians. And even in the care of said guardians, they still got hurt.

 

It was a terrible thing to think about, from the point of view of Qui-Gon and Prestor. They felt like they’d failed them. The mission was a success, but they weren’t sure what lasting damage was going to happen to the boys.

 

Qui-Gon was fairly terrible at force visions, at least, he was terrible at recognizing and looking for them, but something felt different. Like something had just changed. He wasn’t sure if this was what a shatterpoint felt like. He didn’t think it was, because Mace hated the damn things, but Obi-Wan had to deal with visions regularly, and they were nothing like this.

 

Something was different, and he wasn’t sure if it was for the better.

 

***

 

Obi-Wan remembered  _ nothing _ of the week long journey back home. Though he was thoroughly embarrassed when told he’d spent the majority of the week cuddled in a bed with Prince Bail Organa, purring pleased as anything while they slept the week away together.

 

He didn’t remember that at all, but he’d seen glimpses of the picture the two of them made in Qui-Gon’s mind, and it was enough to tease him about for the next five years at least, though his master seemed reluctant to bring it up at all.

 

According to Tahl and Micah, Obi-Wan’s injuries were severe enough that Qui-Gon might take a while to recover from the fact that it made him feel like he was failing Obi-Wan, like he had no right to raise a padawan.

 

Obi-Wan thought Qui-Gon was a little hard on himself, he’s a little bit accident prone, he gets hurt at least once a month. Qui-Gon should be used to it by now.

 

But still, he didn’t remember any of it. Just knew that it happened.

 

The senate room was awkwardly silent. Qui-Gon was in the main senate dome with the senator, and Obi-Wan was under strict orders not to listen to anything loud, and finish his homework.

 

As it turns out, Bail was an equally studious student, and was placidly sitting with his mostly healed leg under the caff table while they worked together in silence.

 

Awkward silence.

 

“...is that something that all Jedi can do?”

 

Obi-Wan looked at Bail for a long moment. “Is what?”

 

Bail blushed red, looking down at his data pad. “Um… purring?”

 

Obi-Wan could tell his cheeks matched Bail’s, and bemoaned his poor control. His aster would be ashamed. Though in reality, Qui-Gon would not be ashamed. Obi-Wan was still young and baby faced enough that Qui-Gon found it quite endearing. It was Obi-Wan who was ashamed of his poor control.

 

Bail watched him in open fascination as Obi-Wan studied his data pad, cheeks still hot as he studied the way Obi-Wan seemed to think the answer over. “Jedi can… I mean, not every Jedi can do it. Some of the children who were brought to the crèche older, or specific species, they can’t, but… I don’t know  _ why _ we can do it, it’s one of those things that’s been passed down since before the Jedi were even an actual order, you know? But some of us who were at the temple from a younger age, we do it without thinking about it.”

 

Bail slowly nodded at that. “Oh. How old were you when you went to the crèche?”

 

Obi-Wan gave a little shrug, looking wishy about the answer. “We’re not fully sure, the crèche masters said it was anywhere between two and three tendays old. Just left me on the steps, and the guards couldn’t track whoever it was. Closest they could figure out was my DNA goes back to Stewjon heritage, but they never could trace back a family line for some reason. They said my DNA was built all weird.”

 

“...you don’t know who your parents are? Or your birthday?”

 

Obi-Wan gave a little shrug. “Jedi only celebrate birthdays in the sense that you’re alive another year, it doesn’t really matter much. The crèche raised me, I don’t  _ need _ parents.”

 

Bail thought that over for a long minute. He loved his parents. His mother was reluctant to let him go to the senate with his father, being underage and all, and convincing her to let him stay after his near kidnapping had been even harder, but he was going to be a senator himself one day… and if he’s being truly honest, he missed his dad something terribly when he was away.

 

He was away more now than when Bail was younger, but now that Bail was being groomed to take over for him, he and Bail were going to be on Coruscant for the foreseeable future until Bail was able to be a competent replacement for him.

 

He couldn’t imagine just… not having them. But Obi-Wan had only known his parents for a short time, if at all, he wouldn’t have anyone to miss.

 

He looked back to Obi-Wan, who seemed to be fidgeting nervously with his data pad now, before setting it down on the table and pressing the thumb to his right hand into the meat of his left palm, a dazed, tired look on his face while his eyes went distant with every press to the flesh between thumb and pointer finger.

 

“Does your head hurt?”

 

Obi-Wan honestly thought about lying. He might have if anyone else had asked. He nodded, looking back at Bail while he dropped his hands to his lap. “Yes. It doesn’t feel good. The healers said I had a hairline fracture. Master said he kept having to put me down into the healing trance.”

 

Bail nodded, frowning. “He did. You kept getting up to go to the bathroom and make tea. I was stuck with the catheter.”

 

Obi-Wan mustered a tired little smile. “I’m sorry. The healers say I’m a problem patient.”

 

Bail’s eyes were wide. “You  _ are _ a problem patient! Didn’t know where you were and still you argued with Master Jinn that you were  _ fine _ . I’m not sure how you’re alive!”

 

Obi-Wan didn’t reply, hands reaching up to scrub tiredly at his eyes. Bail felt bad for saying that. He meant it as a joke, and Obi-Wan might have taken it as one at another point, but the teen was exhausted. It probably just made him feel worse.

 

He reached back to brace an arm on the sofa, and leavered himself up, leaning primarily against his left leg. It was mostly healed, according to the healers back at the temple, but it was too sore to really do much with. It’s why his dad asked for Qui-Gon to accompany him to senate meetings for the next week, leaving Obi-Wan alone in the quiet apartment with Bail while they both healed up.

 

Bail reached down and nudged Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Hey, come on, let’s go to my room.”

 

Obi-Wan stared at him blankly for a few moments, before nodding and standing up, leaving his data pad on the table as he followed the other teen through the apartment and to a bedroom done up in dark blues with a plush bed and a nice desk. 

 

Obi-Wan was a  _ jedi _ , and the minimalism of it was astounding. But, that might be because his own bedroom was scattered full of half finished wood working projects and way too many tools. His master was terrible with mechanics, and Obi-Wan had somehow managed to get himself interested in wood carvings, so his clutter had shifted from bolts and droid casings to random hunks of wood and shavings that the cleaning droids were constantly beeping at him angrily for.

 

Bail was sitting on one side of the bed, watching him, and Obi-Wan vaguely wondered how long he’s been standing there. “What are we doing here?”

 

Bail patted the bed next to him with a raised eyebrow. “Come lay down. It’ll help your headache.”

 

“Oh.” Obi-Wan crawled into the bed next to Bail, letting his head mush into the pillow there. It smelled so  _ familiar _ , and he had no idea why…

 

Bail just nodded, looking pleased, and moved to lay down next to him on the soft covers, closing his own eyes.

 

Obi-Wan fell asleep a lot easier than he usually did.

 

***

 

He woke up with a heartbeat under his ear, and a large hand gently carding through his hair. But… that was Master’s hand, for sure, but this wasn’t Master’s heartbeat. It didn’t sound like the heart he listened to after nightmares or bad visions that left him shaking, this was… this was just as familiar, but in a different way. He gave a gentle little sigh and nuzzled his head into the chest he was on top of.

 

That’s another thing; Master was too big for Obi-Wan to lay his head on in this position. It would make Obi-Wan’s neck ache. He normally slept on his bicep since it was easier. He was on someone’s chest right now.

 

He sluggishly fought to open his eyes, finding himself on Bail’s bed, most of the way wrapped around the other teen while they napped, and… Master was petting his hair.

 

“What?”

 

He lifted his head, making Bail blink awake under him, and turned to see Qui-Gon halfway onto the bed behind him, still gently running through his hair soothingly. Obi-Wan would be more embarrassed if he didn’t feel such soothing affection through their bond. It was nice.

 

Qui-Gon smiled at him, sitting back on the edge of the bed now. “Feeling better, little one?”

 

Obi-Wan blinked a few times, nodding a little shyly. “Yes.”

 

“Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> padawansuggest.tumblr.com


End file.
